Well, I continue to more or less live in outer space (I’d feel guiltier about this, but it’s kind of a survival thing right now; finances and mental health are both pretty disastrous, although I’m doing my best to change that, slowly).

After an ... extended period of rewatching, note-taking and analysis, the outline for my Garak/Bashir fic project(!) is coming together, although I’m weirdly having a much easier time with the emotional arc than the plot. (This is seriously unusual for me! At least, in my original work, where concept/plot/worldbuilding are always the easier part, so far.) I’m getting closer, though ... and deeply excited to just immerse myself in writing these characters.

(Mainly, I’m struggling to invent the specifics of a convoluted, covert plot worthy of Elim Garak. I mean, that’s kind of next level, you know? Argh.)

Also, I semi-accidentally took a NSFW fanart commission based on the suspension scene from The Policy of Truth a scorching hot BDSM-centric fic by Prevailing (WiP, but worth it, and I’m fairly certain she will finish it eventually). Which was also a bit of a departure on a number of levels.

Julian stared at the reflections of himself from all angles, heart pounding, pulse thumping against the ropes with each beat. “Garak,” he whispered.

Garak’s voice came from behind him, out of sight of the mirrors. “Hm?”